


Waking Dream

by archangelwithashotgun



Series: Tumblr Prompts [48]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is a Sweetheart, Destiel - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Hair stroking, M/M, Nightmares, One Word Prompts, Pre-Slash, Slash, Tumblr Prompt, cafuné
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archangelwithashotgun/pseuds/archangelwithashotgun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cafuné (Brazillian Portuguese): the act of tenderly running one’s fingers through someone’s hair.</p>
<p>Castiel didn't sleep. He had better things to do at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Dream

Castiel didn’t sleep.

Obviously, there was no need for him to; angels were not built with the need to acquire certain requirements to sustain themselves like humans did. Angels could sleep if they wanted to. He’s known his fair share of brothers and sisters that have attempted to and have described the chaotic flurry of colors and songs that were their dreams. Castiel has never indulged in it himself.

Despite that, Castiel didn’t sleep not only because he didn’t need to, but also because he didn’t want to.

He had better things to do at night.

Watching Dean Winchester sink into a peaceful slumber was a favorite pastime of Castiel’s. It was something he would never get used to. He’d never get used to the sight of Dean’s eyes slowly getting more and more bloodshot the longer he stayed up, the increasing heaviness of Dean’s eyelids as he began to nod off, the gradual sink of Dean’s body into the mattress as he released the day’s tension, the light roll of his eyes into the back of his head as he finally slipped into his unconscious realm of dreams.

Castiel never grew tired of watching Dean sleep.

And after they finally got their heads out of their asses and got together, Castiel would be right there, lying beside Dean, observing this beautiful action in a more intimate position than he had ever known before.

It was exhilarating.

Right now, his chest pressed against Dean’s back, his right arm slipped underneath the curve of Dean’s torso, their legs tangled together, Dean’s hair grazing his chin, it was _exhilarating_.

Dean took in a deep, shifting slightly in his sleep, his lips smacking as he dug his face into his pillow.

Moments later, Dean shifted again, but this time Castiel frowned as the movements were more stiff and taut, and he noticed Dean’s jaw setting as the hunter pressed his face deeper into the pillow. A low keen vibrated through Dean’s throat, and Castiel lifted his head from his pillow, at once alert.

Dean was having a nightmare.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, scooting over to press himself closer to Dean. “Shhhh, Dean. It’s a dream, you’re okay.”

Dean trembled in response, a pained grunt jolting from him.

“Shhhh,” Castiel soothed, taking his left hand and cupping it around Dean’s head. His fingers splayed out and stretched through the dirty-blond strands, the pads rubbing comfortingly at Dean’s scalp. “You’re okay, Dean. It’s just a dream. I’m here. I’m right here.”

He slowly ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, feeling it tickle through the gaps. Like watching Dean sleeping, stroking Dean’s hair had always been a source of comfort both for the hunter and angel. Occasionally Dean would slick it up with some products, resulting in the tips becoming coarse and rough against Castiel’s hands, but it was rare when that happened. Whether it was gelled up, or wet from a shower, or muddy from digging graves, or matted with sweat, or in its natural dry state, Castiel would never get enough of Dean’s hair between his fingers.

Castiel’s lips ghosted over the side of Dean’s neck, and his hand slid further up Dean’s skull, fingers curving and loosening.

“Dean, you’re okay,” Castiel murmured, lightly muffled by Dean’s neck. He pressed a chaste kiss to the skin there and ran his fingers to the hair surrounding Dean’s temple. “I have you.”

Slowly, gradually, Dean’s tense expression went slack, his furrowed brows loosing and his jaw unclenching. Castiel could feel the pulse in Dean’s temple decreasing, and Dean’s stiff posture once again slumping into the mattress as he relaxed, and the hunter heaved out a large sigh as his dreams turned peaceful once more.

Castiel smiled in relief, kissing the side of Dean’s neck before trailing his lips to the nape, kissing Dean there as well. Happy that his human was once again well, Castiel placed his head once again onto his pillow. He kept his fingers in Dean’s hair, caressing and stroking, guarding Dean’s dreams for the rest of the night.


End file.
